


Home

by nightmares06



Series: Brothers Apart [4]
Category: Supernatural, The Borrowers - All Media Types
Genre: Borrower!Sam, Gen, Sam Winchester's Visions, Tiny!Sam, size!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares06/pseuds/nightmares06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A disturbing dream drives the brothers back to the one place they never thought they'd go again... home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad Dreams and Breakfast

_Once again, he sees his adopted family, going through their nightly routine. His mother smiles, giving his father a peck on the cheek as he leaves for the bedroom. A small candle burns behind her for light. She gets a cup of water and puts out the candle. She goes to follow him into their small room._  
  
_She stops. Reaches up to brush the hair from her eyes._  
  
_For a moment, Sam is sure he feels the house as it shakes._  
  
_And then, it comes again._  
  
_Dust shakes down through the cracks in the ceiling. Only darkness beckons beyond the gaps. His mother grabs at the thimble of water they keep on their 'counter.' It is a small counter made from several child's building blocks and covered with a tablecloth she'd made from a scrap of forgotten fabric. It slips off anyway and crashes on the floor, soaking her pants._  
  
_He knows what comes next, but nothing he tries can pull him out of the world of dreams._  
  
_Before the ending he is so familiar with comes, the images start to melt together, shifting into something new. Something different. Something unexpected._  
  
_There's a house, standing alone on the street. A gnarled, twisted tree stands near it, tall even in death. A thousand times taller than Sam is now. A scream breaks through the silence of the dream for a moment, an image of fire briefly flashes in his eyes._  
  
_In the window of the house, a woman beats her fists, screaming for help. Terror is in her eyes as she sees her death approach._

* * *

**SUPERNATURAL**

* * *

Gasping, Sam woke up in a cold sweat. The nightmare dissipated into the cool, pre-dawn air. He tried to pull himself up to a sit, but ended up flailing when his bed under him folded, lifting him up all on its own. Sam found himself along for the ride as it lifted into the air.  
  
Confused, he opened his eyes, pausing to let them adjust in the sudden light. He found himself sitting in Dean's open hand, folded to give some support to his back. He couldn't bring himself to meet the worried expression he knew was on Dean's face, hovering right above him. He hated having Dean always worrying about him like this. It made him feel like he was just a burden.  
  
"Dude, you alright?" Dean asked. He peered down at Sam, squinting to see him better in the soft morning light.  
  
"I'm fine..." Sam said, trailing off for a second. A brief flash from his dream hit him, showing a house and the gnarled, twisted tree out front. He shook his head to relieve himself of the disturbing images. Bringing himself back to the present and his silently fretting brother, Sam finished his thought. "...just a bad dream."  
  
Dean held him that way for a few more moments, making Sam shift under the heavy scrutiny. "Sam, do you want to talk about it?" From the tone of Dean's voice, talking about it was the last thing he'd ever want to do, but his eyes still locked on Sam's, reassuring him that his brother would always be there for him.  
  
The last thing Sam wanted to do was relive the horror again so soon. "Ah, no. It's nothing Dean, just a bad dream."  
  
"Sam, these dreams are eating you up. You haven't gotten a good night's sleep since we finished that case with Nixie."  
  
"Dean... I'll be fine. You don't have to worry so much. Now... can I get back to sleep? It's already been a long night." He tilted to the side, glancing off the edge of the hand supporting him. A mistake. Dean was sitting with his legs off the side of the bed, the hand with Sam in it suspended above the faraway floor. Sam felt the blood drain from his face at how high up he was, knowing if he ever fell from this height it could kill him.  
  
Seeing Sam's reaction to where he was, Dean moved the hand over the bed. An uncomfortable expression passed over his face when he realized how he'd scared Sam by accident.  
  
Focusing back on the matter at hand, Dean sighed unhappily. "Alright, whatever you say." Dean went to lower him down to the nightstand and his bed, but Sam waved for him to stop, an idea jumping into his head at the last second. Dean brought him back up, holding Sam far enough out so he could get a decent look at his brother.  
  
"Do... do you mind..." Sam rubbed the back of his neck. Dean waited with an expectant look on his face. "Can-I-sleep-in-your-pocket?" He blurted out all at once, worried Dean would laugh at him. But that dream - it had disturbed him so much he doubted he'd be able to fall asleep down on his bed again. He couldn't bear laying down there, alone in the dark. So far away from his brother and safety. The dream he'd just had felt too close to the dream he'd had of his family dying - the night before losing them. Too close, too real. And the last time he'd slept a full night, he'd been in Dean's pocket.  
  
To his surprise, instead of laughing at him Dean's eyes softened. "No problem, Sammy."   
  
Dean lay back down on the bed, gently dropping Sam down on the center of his chest. Feeling a weight lift off his shoulders at his brother's surprising acceptance, Sam jogged over to the pocket. The amulet he'd given Dean he carefully stepped over, smiling at the memory of it. Without that amulet he might never have found his brother. They wouldn't be here now.  
  
Reaching the pocket, he pulled up the flap. He ignored the ground under him shaking as Dean settled down into the bed. It wasn't alarming anymore, he knew he was perfectly safe. Treating the pocket like a sleeping bag, he settled in. Dean's steady heartbeat under him conspired to lull him back towards sleep, giving him a feeling of safety he only ever found there. He was so far gone he didn’t notice when Dean rested a hand protectively over the pocket, trying to shelter his little brother from the rest of the world.  
  
Both brothers slipped back into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

  
The next morning found Sam sitting on a pillow of the spare bed, drawing images from his dream into the small journal he owned while Dean was busy checking for new cases online. He listened to his brother's steady voice fill the background with half an ear while sketching out the gnarled branches of a dead tree.  
  
"Alright. I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali," he arched his eyebrows. "Its crew vanished. And, oh. Here's some cattle mutilations up in West Texas. Girl found dead in a locked apartment in Nevada..." He glanced over at Sam on the bed and waved his hand. "Hey."  
  
Surprised, Sam stared up at him, almost dropping his notebook. "What?"  
  
"Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff? Few days ago you wouldn't shut up about this stuff, now you won’t even pay attention."  
  
"No, I'm listening. Keep going." Sam turned back to his drawing, wishing he'd sharpened the lead pencil tip he had for writing. Dean had offered to try and find something easier to write with, but Sam found himself loath to give up what he had... it had been one of his hardest finds.  
  
"Here's a good one. Sacramento man shot himself in the head three times." He peered over at the bed, realizing Sam wasn't paying attention again. "Three times, Sammy." He held out his fingers for emphasis. There was still no response. Standing, he bounced onto the bed, hoping to get a reaction out of Sam.  
  
Sam flew up in the air, crashing back down on the pillow a few feet away from his journal. Recovering, he found Dean's hand hovering over him, three digits as long as he was tall extended. "Three times. Any of these blowing up your skirt, pint-size?"  
  
"Was that really necessary?" Sam muttered, grabbing his pencil tip and his journal from where they'd fallen. He shoved at the hand in his way, stomping further away so it wasn't hovering in his personal space. And then took a second look at the picture he'd drawn, realization hitting him. "Dean, do you have Dad's journal on you?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Dean reached into one of the inner pockets of his jacket, pulling out the familiar journal. He plopped it on the bed not far from Sam and watched curiously while the smaller hunter went over, trying to push the journal open with his limited strength. Taking pity, Dean reached over Sam's head, opening it for him. Sam stumbled for a second in surprise at the hand's appearance but recovered quickly.  
  
Sam walked right onto the journal, leaving it open to the first page. He dug through a few of the pictures tucked into the first page until he found what he was looking for. "Dean, I know where we have to go next."  
  
Dean leaned over Sam, a huge shadow eclipsing the light over his head. "What are you talking about?" The picture Sam was holding was only a little smaller than him, arms stretched to their limits to hold it steady for Dean to see. Dean took it from him, holding it out for the both of them.  
  
"We need to go home, back to Kansas." Sam had to look straight up to meet Dean's eyes the way his brother was looming over him.  
  
Dean frowned at that. "Okay... random. What brought this on?"  
  
Sam jabbed a finger at the house in front of him. The people in the picture were close to the same size as him. "Our old house... it didn't burn down. Not completely, right? Didn't it get rebuilt, or something?"  
  
"I guess so. Why? What's bringing this on?" Dean rested his head on his free arm so he was at the same level as Sam. He'd noticed how uncomfortable Sam was, looking up at him.  
  
Sam bounced past the sprawling length of his brother, going to the edge of the bed closest to his bed under the nightstand. "I... ah... I think the family that lives in our old house is danger."  
  
Dean frowned. "What makes you say that? Where's this coming from?" His eyes tracked Sam's movement on the bed, curiously following the smaller man.  
  
Sam turned back to him when he reached the edge of the bed, glad Dean was closer to his level. He still got intimidated when Dean towered over him. And it made what he was about to say easier to get out. "You... you're just gonna have to trust me on this, okay?" He could feel his eyes pleading to Dean. The last thing he wanted to do was explain his nightmares to Dean. He already felt like he lived in a different world than his brother... he didn't want anything else to push them further apart. Which he was certain would happen if Dean found out how his nightmares came true.  
  
Dean frowned, deep lines etched onto his face as he considered Sam standing before him. "Trust you? That's all you're gonna give me here?"  
  
Sam stepped away nervously at the scowl on Dean's face. "Dean, please," he begged. "We have to go back there. Now." He turned away, planning to climb down to get his stuff.  
  
He didn't get far. Dean blocked Sam with a hand, keeping him from leaving. "Sam, that's weak. You gotta give me more to go on for this." Dean sent Sam his version of the puppy eyes, surprisingly effective when bigger than your head.  
  
Sam backed away. He deserved that. He couldn't find it in himself to get mad at Dean. "It's just... I can't explain it."  
  
This only earned him a cocked eyebrow. Dean's expression changed from pleading to unsympathetic in the space of a second. "Well, tough. Until you do, we ain't going anywhere."  
  
Something leaked out of Sam at this ultimatum, his shoulders slumping down. If he didn't have Dean's support, he wouldn't be able to get  _anywhere_  the way he was. As aggravating as that was, it was a part of his life now and he'd have to deal with it like he dealt with everything else this size.   
  
Steeling himself for what he was about to tell his brother, he took a seat on the bed in front of Dean and stared up at him. Even with Dean lying flat on the bed like this he towered over his younger brother. "Just... please don't freak out."  
  
Dean waited expectantly, nothing but support written on his face.  
  
Sam closed his eyes. "I... I have these nightmares."  
  
"Yeah... I've noticed." Dean's tone was full of  _tell me something I don't already know._  Sam figured he deserved that one. Dean woke up before him every time he got trapped in a nightmare, disturbed by the way Sam freaked out in his sleep.  
  
Sam squeezed his eyes shut, hating what he was about to say. "And these nightmares... sometimes they come true."   
  
There was silence. Sam studied the threads on the bed covers, picking them nervously while Dean digested his revelation. By the time a response came, Sam had managed to unravel a few threads by his leg.  
  
"Come again?" Dean said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.  
  
Sam sucked in a deep breath.  _Here it goes._  A thousand times he'd thought about having this conversation with Dean and a thousand times he'd talked himself out of it, afraid of how Dean would look at him afterwards. If he lost Dean or pushed him away, he'd lose the last person he cared about in this life. He'd already lost his life, the family that had cared for him since he was ten, his home...   
  
He didn't want to lose Dean too.  
  
He braced himself. "Dean, look. Before... before my adopted parents died, I  _saw_ it happen. For over a week, I dreamt about their deaths."  
  
Dean reached a hand out to Sam, pausing when Sam flinched away. He rested a fingertip lightly on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, people have weird dreams all the time. Doesn't mean you're seeing the future. It could've just been a coincidence."  
  
Sam shoved the finger away, taking himself to a stand and pacing back and forth angrily. "No, Dean! I saw  _everything._  The way they died, the fire, my adopted mom against the ceiling... just like how Dad said Mom died! It's how I know they were killed by the same bastard. And..." he turned his eyes up to Dean, eyes glassing over. "Dean, I knew how they were going to die  _days_  before they died. I saw it happen long before you even came to town. If only I'd told them...  _done_  something, they might not have died. I didn't believe it at the time because it was too insane, but then it happened, and if I'd just  _told_  them, I could have stopped it from happening!"  
  
Dean licked his lips, voice rasping, "Sammy..."  
  
"And now I'm dreaming about that tree, our house... and some woman, screaming for help in the window!" He paced back to Dean's hand, leaning on it like it was a table. "Dean, it's where it all started, all those years ago... this has to mean something!" Without realizing what he was doing, he punched a fist into the hand he was leaning on.   
  
"I... I don't know..." Dean's voice, normally so steady, trembled at Sam's statement. He didn't pay any attention to the tiny blow against his hand.  
  
Sam couldn't help himself. "What do you mean you don't know? This woman could be in danger. Hell, this could be the same thing that killed Mom... that killed both our families! And we might finally have a chance to get it..." He went back to pacing again, stalking back and forth with agitation in front of his brother's hand. "Dean..."  
  
The hand lifted from the bed, two fingers pinching around Sam's midsection to hold him in place. "Slow down for a minute, would ya? I mean first you tell me you've got the Shinning? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when..."  
  
Sam stared down at the finger in front of him as Dean's voice trailed off, noticing how it trembled while holding him in place. He put his hands on the large digit, surprised at the emotion in his brother's voice. Dean was normally so stoic and collected, Sam couldn't help being a little afraid of the uncertainty in the giant before him. "When what?" He asked softly, giving Dean his support.  
  
Dean blinked glassy eyes down at Sam. "When I promised myself I'd never go back there?"  
  
Sam pulled away from the grip of the fingers in surprise. They let him go gently. "Dean... we have to check this out. We have to be sure."  
  
Dean closed his eyes, burying his head into the arm he was leaning on. "Yeah. I know we do."

* * *

  
Dean sat down in a far off corner of the diner, smiling at the hostess when she left him the menu to check out. He'd asked to sit as far from the crowd as possible. Holding up the menu, he tilted his head down to his pocket. "Hey, if you see anything you want to try, give me a heads up."  
  
A little head poked out of the pocket, blinking tiredly. Sam had spent the last few hours on the road catching up on his sleep from the night before. This was the first time Dean had seen him since they left the motel. The drive back to Lawrence, Kansas was over fifteen hours so there was plenty of down time for Sam to sleep through. All in all, a good thing since Sam hadn't been sleeping at all the last few nights.   
  
From what Dean could tell, the nightmares were getting worse every night. Last night being the worst of them all.  
  
Dean smirked at Sam when he stood in the swinging pocket, arms up in a stretch. "Nice bedhead, shorty," he said, raising a hand to mash down the flyaways in Sam's hair.  
  
Sam twitched away from the hand, disappearing back into the depths of the pocket when he tumbled backwards. Dean chuckled as Sam hauled himself back up again, sending Dean a death glare the whole way. He tried to fix his hair. "Leave my hair outta this," he groused. He stared at the huge menu in front of them, overwhelmed with the choices. His entire life no one had ever asked him what he wanted to eat. Not till Dean. "Ahh... I'll just... I'll just have some eggs." he said.  
  
Dean flipped through a few pages, taking in the choices. He already knew Sam hated to ask for anything at times like this… Dean wanted to get Sam to open up a little more, but there wasn’t time today. For now he'd just order something with variety so Sam got to try something new.  
  
He was still browsing through when the waitress came up. Dean jerked up the menu so it blocked Sam from view. He gave her a smile, trying to not look like he was hiding anything. He felt Sam's tiny weight drop to the bottom of the pocket the second she arrived. 'Least the kid was fast.  
  
"Hi, my name is Claire and I'll be taking your order today." With a bright and cheery smile, she put down a tall glass of water on the table. "Did you want any appetizers today?"  
  
"Nah, I think we'll skip right to the main course."  
  
She eyed him curiously. "We? Do you have a friend coming?"  
  
_Shit._  Realizing his mistake, Dean backtracked as fast as he could. The small lump in his pocket that was his brother hung heavy against his chest, a sharp reminder of how much Sam depended on him. And if something happened to Sam because Dean wanted breakfast.... he'd never forgive himself. Such a stupid reason to put Sam in danger. "Ah... no, sorry. I was going to meet up with my college roommate, but he, ah... cancelled last minute."  
  
She was still giving him the weirded out eye. "Oookay. Well then, what would you like to order?"  
  
Deciding to just go with it like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Dean folded up his menu. He gave her his most charming smile. "I'll take the 'Ultimate Omelet,' a coffee, black, and a side of bacon."  
  
She snapped up the menu the second it hit the table. "Coming right up!" She said, dimpling. It seemed he was forgiven.  
  
Once she was gone, Sam poked his head up again. "College roommate? That's your best comeback?"  
  
"Hey, you have any better ideas, feel free to speak up next time." Dean reached up a hand, fishing Sam out with two fingers. With his brother perched on his hand, he repositioned the little stand up dessert menu that was in the center of the table so it was closer to him and placed Sam so he could hide behind it.  
  
"You sure about this Dean?" Sam asked, glancing around nervously. Dean had tilted the menu so he could only be seen from Dean's seat or the wall the booth was placed against.  
  
"You'll be fine, quit worrying." Dean said wryly. He dug out a bottlecap from his pockets, checking to make sure it was clean before putting it down next to Sam.  
  
"Yeah, well it's not your ass on the line if this goes south," Sam grumbled, settling down with his hands around his knees.  
  
The food came about fifteen minutes later, an omelet with everything that could fit into it piled up on a huge plate, and a smaller plate with three skimpy strips of bacon.  
  
"You just tell me if you need anything else, hon!" Claire said, winking at Dean. "I'll be back to check on you in a bit."  
  
Once he was sure the waitress was gone, Sam peeked around the menu at the rest of the diner. "So, you eat at places like this a lot?" He asked curiously, eyes flicking from table to table, taking in the other distant patrons.  
  
For the most part, the diner was full of elderly couples. A few families with children dotted the area. One pair of twins was playing tag before their mother stomped over, grabbing them both by the hand to pull them back in the booth. From Sam's point of view, it was a completely alien landscape, full of cliff-like tables and enormous giants. Almost no places to hide or escape. His brother was his only source of protection in a place like this.  
  
"Uh, yeah. A decent amount. It's better than fast food at least. This life... I never have time for anything but diners, take out or fast food." A flash of emotion that might have been regret passed over Dean, thinking of the life he’d never have. But he wasn't meant to have this kind of life. He was a hunter. And Sam...He might never be normal.   
  
Pushing it away, he dug into the omelet, cutting off a piece for Sam. He figured with an omelet like this, there would be plenty of variety for Sam to try. He tried to get a bit of everything in Sam's little piece.  
  
Tearing off a bit of napkin, he put the bit of egg and some of the bacon down in Sam's cubby. He fiddled around with the bottlecap, trying to get the coffee the way Sam liked it without having to add anything to his. Dean liked it hot and black, whereas Sam preferred it sugared and creamed so much you almost couldn't taste the coffee anymore. "Shit!" He cursed under his breath when he fumbled the tiny cap, spilling the hot coffee on his fingers.  
  
Sam winced when Dean spilled the coffee. He scooched farther back into the menu when the coffee spill soaked through his napkin. Dean's huge hand wiped up the spill, swooping close to Sam while he cleaned. After, Dean had to rip off another napkin and get more of the omelet and bacon for Sam.  
  
He finally managed to get the tiny bottlecap filled with drinkable coffee for Sam and set it down. Sam dug into his food without any more delay.  
  
No words passed between the brothers for the next ten minutes as they both happily dug into their plates. Dean kept an alert eye out for any threats for Sam, knowing his brother's nervousness about eating out in the open like this wasn't unfounded. Sam had good reason to want to stay out of sight from any humans that weren't Dean. Even Dean had been dangerous for Sam to be around before he realized it was his little brother.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
Dean jumped a little when the tiny voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Uh, yeah?" He said, voice a bit sharper than he'd meant. His nerves were on edge assessing dangers he'd never thought of before. His hunter senses were on full power.  
  
"I... I was just wondering... have you heard from Dad yet... you know, about me?"  
  
Dean paused, remembering the message he'd left their Dad more than two weeks ago now. "Nothin,' he hasn't called since."  
  
Sam stared down at the table, tiny shoulders slumping down. Guilt rose in Dean's throat at the hurt in Sam's profile. He pushed it away, knowing it wasn't his fault. His brother deserved better but there was nothing Dean could do about it. He dug back into the omelet, concentrating on the eggs to the exclusion of everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief trip into the world of canon for the brothers... If you've seen this episode, prepared for a few fun surprises ;)
> 
> The storyline and characters contained within the story are NOT mine, this is just for fun and entertainment. Changes have been made to the storyline to fit in the borrower!Sam AU
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!
> 
> Got help editing from Sophie's Lamp over on fanfiction.net


	2. Children

The car came to a rest outside of the house.  
  
Sitting on Dean's shoulder against the thick collar of his black jacket, Sam shielded his eyes. This was the first time he'd ever seen the house outside of the old photos tucked into their father’s journal.   
  
The twisted tree was far more foreboding in person, towering over the entire scene. The house itself was nice. Straight edges, clean lines. He wondered for a moment what his life would have been like had they grown up in that house. Never being hunters, never getting cursed... a storybook life, one that could never exist outside the pages of a beautiful, leather-bound book for him. He'd be able to look his brother in the eye when standing next to him, instead of the heel of Dean's boots, so low down he had trouble knowing if Dean could even hear him when he said something. A life he'd never have.  
  
Realizing Dean hadn't said anything since arriving, Sam turned to face his brother. The big green eyes were staring off into the distance, unable to look away from his childhood home.  
  
Sam only knew a little from those days. Dean always clammed up the moment Sam asked him about the time before their mother died. It was like Dean was afraid to face his past, scared of reopening old scars. No matter what Sam said, Dean wouldn't let him in. And when Sam had been with Dean and their dad growing up, John had almost never talked about the night of the fire around Sam. Hell, if he'd had his way, Sam wouldn't have known about anything they did. He'd have lived in ignorance right up until the witch had zapped him, giving him a rude introduction to the supernatural. Dean had been the one to introduce him to the supernatural, grouchy and resistant the whole way, but knowing it was for the best.  
  
"Dean," Sam nudged the neck he was sitting next to so he could get Dean's attention. "You gonna be alright, man?"  
  
Dean didn't look away from the house. "Let me get back to you on that." A frown was etched into his face. He climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Without even looking, he raised a hand to Sam, letting him climb into the offered palm.  
  
Dean held him in front of the pocket. Sam climbed in without any qualms, dropping into the pitch black fabric. Once he was in there, Dean started walking to the house, shaking the pocket with his swaying gait. Sam could hear the huge heart behind him speed up as Dean drew closer. Wishing he could offer better support, Sam patted the wall behind him, knowing from experience Dean could feel him like this, if just barely. And indeed, a moment later a huge weight gently brushed against Sam, letting him know Dean had felt his reassurance. Sam smiled in the darkness, not feeling alone anymore.  
  
The hand pulled away and Sam stood up as he heard Dean knock on the door. The door cracked open. Sam managed to push the pocket flap up just enough to catch a wary glimpse of the person greeting Dean.   
  
A nice voice rang out after the door opened. "Yes?"  
  
Sam almost choked when he saw the owner of the voice.  
  
It was the woman from his dream.  
  
The blond hair and soft eyes were unmistakable. While Sam was recovering from his surprise, Dean's voice rang out overhead. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am..."  
  
Sam kicked his heel against Dean's chest as hard as he could. After catching a glimpse of her, he doubted the plan they'd discussed on the ride down would work. Dean fumbled his words in confusion for a moment. Sam hoped he'd get the hint.  
  
"Are you alright?" The woman's voice came again, sounding genuinely worried for him.  
  
Dean recovered from Sam’s kick. "Yeah, sorry. Just... a lot to take in. My name's Dean Winchester. I used to live here, when I was little. I happened to be driving by and was wondering if I could see the old place. Ya know, for old times’ sake."  
  
Sam dared enough to peek out once again. For a human, she didn't seem so bad so far.   
  
She cocked her head briefly, thinking. "Winchester..." She said thoughtfully. "That is so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."   
  
Sam could feel how tense Dean had become. "You did?" His voice echoed loudly around the pocket.  
  
She stepped out of the doorway, beckoning Dean in. "Yea, come on in." She turned back to Dean. "Oh! My name's Jenny."  
  
Sam could almost hear the smile in Dean's voice there. "Good to meet you, Jenny."  
  
A moment after her footsteps started walking away, Dean's voice came from above. "What's the big idea, kicking me like that?" He demanded, sounding frustrated.  
  
Sam pushed up the edge of the pocket enough so he could peer up at his brother. Dean was staring down at the pocket with an aggravated look his face. Jenny was far enough away that she shouldn't be able to see him. "I just had a feeling." He called up quietly. "I didn't think she'd go for the fake badges."  
  
Dean came around the corner. Sam dropped back down into the pocket to avoid notice. Through the fabric walls, he could hear the sound of children, one little boy’s voice bouncing off the walls yelling "juice, juice, juice, juice!" repeatedly. Sam froze fearfully. At his size, children were dangerous. They were more perceptive than adults, far more likely to notice someone his size trying to hide, because they were more open to the unknown and unexpected. Adults always stayed in their own safe, enclosed worlds, shutting away the unknown.  
  
The only other person aside from Dean to ever catch him out in the open in the motel he used to live in had been a kid. He could remember that day clearly... He'd only been fifteen...  
  
 _Sam creeps silently along the wall, trying to remember everything he's ever been taught about remaining unnoticed and unseen. He glances out from under the dresser he is hiding under, staring at the immense beds in the room. It has been the hours since the lights have shut off and everyone in the room should be fast asleep.  
  
He takes his first careful steps into the room. There is a small bag of chips dropped on the floor by the child in the room earlier on in the day. It is freshly opened, a far cry from the stale crackers his family had been eating for the last week. He is desperate for food, and his father has refused to get fresh food from the kitchens. One of the other families in the motel has had to get food from there earlier that same week. If Sam’s family goes there again so soon, it will risk exposing everyone living in the motel.  
  
The room opens up around him. Five years at this size and he is still not used to the way the world towers above him. It brings back a familiar ache, thinking how things might be different if the witch had gone for Dean. If their Dad had returned to the room a little sooner, or they had never come to this God-forsaken motel in the first place.   
  
He wonders how Dean is. If their father is even still alive. Though it would be frightening to see them while he is so small, he wishes they were nearby. That they could help him. He can imagine, for a few wishful moments, being held by safe, familiar hands. Hands that will protect him instead of capture him. Dean would never let anything bad happen, Sam knew.   
  
Deep inside, he knows it isn't ever meant to be, but it's a nice fantasy. Thinking of them is a comfort he rarely indulges in anymore, but a comfort he needs.  
  
It is these distracted thoughts that get him in trouble.  
  
He is so lost in his own mind that he stumbles right into that bag of chips. It crinkles around him as he falls forward into the leftovers.  
  
A few choice curses he learned from Dean growing up slip from his lips. Standing up in the bag, he freezes.  
  
There is movement in the room.  
  
A small voice calls out. "Mommy? There's something in our room."  
  
The voice is quiet and scared, but almost a death sentence for Sam, small and stranded as he is in the middle of the room. He is only three and a half inches tall, he's just started to hit a growth spurt.  
  
There is a rustling from the other bed. A feminine voice fills the room now. "Go to sleep, baby. There's nothing there."  
  
"But mommy..."  
  
"You were just imagining it sweetie. Close your eyes and relax."  
  
There is silence, and Sam starts to feel a little better. Cautiously, he picks up a chip, and starts to make his way out of the bag as silent as he could.  
  
Finally out, he freezes.  
  
Something feels wrong.  
  
It takes him a moment to figure it out. A shadowy figure is sitting up on the bed, slowly scanning the room. The child is still awake, trying to find what was making the noise on the floor.  
  
Sam tenses. The second the child looks away from his direction, he bolts for the wall. A cry sounds behind him, waking the mother again. While she is trying to calm the boy down, Sam makes it to the dresser and dives under. He wastes no time making his way to the wall, heart in his throat when he hears footsteps behind. They shake the ground under him, giving his flight a desperate spurt of energy.  
  
He makes it to the hidden door and out of the room seconds before a light shines down, lighting up the area. He collapses in relief, still clutching his chip as he hears the mother again. She is right outside his hiding place. "See hun? Nothing there."_  
  
At least now he was with Dean. His brother would never let anything happen to Sam if he could prevent it. And a hunter over six feet tall was not someone easily messed with. Especially since Sam was out of a child's reach here.  
  
Dean stopped moving once he reached the kitchen. Jenny's voice came to them as she bustled about the kitchen. "That’s Richie. He’s kind of a juice junkie." Sam peeked out of the top of the pocket in time to see Jenny take a juice box over to Richie, continuing on. "But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy."  
  
To Sam’s relief, the boy was in a small playpen. Sam would be safely out of reach. Jenny went over to the table, putting a hand on a small girl sitting there. "Sari, this is Dean. He used to live here."  
  
Dean gave her a small wave of his hand. She smiled shyly at him as he turned back to her mom. "So, you just moved here?"  
  
Sam lost track of the conversation for a moment when he realized Sari was still staring at Dean.   
  
No.   
  
Not at Dean.  
  
Her eyes were wide, locked onto Sam. Surprised, he dropped down into the pocket, ducking out of sight. He tried to steady his breathing, panicked thoughts keeping him from calming down.  
  
What if she said something? How much had she seen? Had Dean noticed? What if her mom found out he was here? He huddled against the huge chest behind him, thankful for Dean's height keeping him safe. He listened to the steady gust of breathing behind him, trying to slow his own breathing to match.  
  
He came back to the conversation just as he heard something in Dean's voice switch from casual conversation to business mode. Dean must not have realized Sam had been spotted.  
  
"Oh, that’s too bad. What else?"  
  
As the mom started to detail all the issues of the house, Sam finally managed to calm his breathing somewhat in the closed confines of the pocket. With any luck she’d think she'd imagined him. He couldn't afford to get caught by anyone. As Dean's voice rang out overhead once more Sam again pulled himself up, barely peeking his eyes out of the edge.  
  
He was just in time to see the little girl come up to her mother. "Mom?"  
  
Jenny knelt down. "What, Sari?"  
  
The little girl buried her head against her mother, frightened eyes peering up, first at Dean then at Sam. Dean stiffened the moment he realized exactly where she was looking at on his chest. Her next words caught them both off guard. They had both been expecting her to ask about Sam. "The thing in my closet," she said, sounding scared.  
  
Jenny didn't sound surprised at Sari’s words. "Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in his closet." She turned back to Dean. "Right?"  
  
Dean's voice was off balance, still recovering from Sari spotting Sam. "No, no. Of course not."  
  
Jenny didn't seem to notice Dean or Sari's odd reactions. "She had a nightmare the other night."  
  
Annoyed, Sari said, "I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on  _fire."_  
  
Sam and Dean both tensed at that. If the little girl had seen something like that, combined with the signs that her mom had written off as the normal issues of an older house, it was likely there was a haunting here. The family was in danger.  
  
The moment was interrupted by Richie, who had managed to knock his juice out of his playpen area. He started to cry for both the juice and his mother. Jenny excused herself, going over to calm him down.  
  
While they were distracted, Sari came over to Dean and tugged on his pants. "Excuse me?" She said, still shy.   
  
The moment Dean glanced down at her, she turned red, looking away. He squatted down on the floor to see her better. Sam gasped as the ground fell out from under him. It was like being trapped in a free fall without knowing the world was about to drop from beneath your feet. He recovered right as Dean started talking to the little girl.  
  
"What's up, Sari?" Dean asked, sounding worried. Probably for Sam and being seen.   
  
She stared at Dean with an innocent expression. "What's his name?" She asked curiously.  
  
Sam held his breath at that, wishing he hadn't been so curious and had kept his head down this time. The last thing he wanted was to be exposed to more humans, especially not children.   
  
Dean seemed to have a different opinion though. His voice echoed softly around Sam as he answered her question so Jenny wouldn't hear from the other room. "His name is Sam. He's my little brother."   
  
For a moment, Sam found himself shocked at the pride there was in Dean's voice. He'd never heard Dean talk like that.   
  
Sari giggled softly. "Little brothers aren't supposed to be  _that_  little."  
  
Dean laughed. "No, they're not. Sam here is special." His hand gently patted against the pocket again, making Sam jump away with a jolt before the familiar feel of the weight made him realize it was just Dean. He tried to calm himself down, even as his body trembled fearfully with a combination of past experiences and current danger. The weight of Dean's hand helped him start to relax, a tiny bit.  
  
 _Calm down, Dean's not gonna let anything happen to you. You KNOW that. He hasn't let you down yet._  
  
Sari's voice came again, as quiet as Dean now. "Why's he hiding?"  
  
"Well, for Sam here, people like you and me are dangerous. It's real easy for him to get hurt by accident. So he stays with me, and I protect him."  
  
Sam rolled his eyes at that, punching his fist into his brother's chest. The pocket shook with a silent laugh. Hesitantly, Sam pushed up the pocket flap to take a look at the girl. With Dean squatting on the ground, her eyes were level with Sam's head. They widened as he stood up, in sight. Sam could see Jenny in the distance, still calming down Richie, who was starting to recover from losing his juice.  
  
"H-Hey Sari," he said.  
  
"Hi Sam." She blushed, shyly staring down at her feet.   
  
Sam had to smile at that. Okay, she wasn't so bad. No sudden movements, she hadn't grabbed at him at all. And he liked how quiet she talked all the time. It was hard hiding in Dean's pocket like this when his brother was talking to other people. Dean's regular talking voice wasn't bad most of the time, but sitting against his chest made it louder, almost deafening Sam on occasion.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted when Jenny stood up, coming back over to Dean and Sari. Sam's stomach fell through his feet when Dean stood up without warning. The force tossed him back down into the pocket. Honestly - who needs an amusement park when you live with a giant? He tumbled back into the depths as Dean turned to face Jenny. Sam was able to push himself up so he was sitting propped in a corner, boots half buried in the pocket lint while Dean said goodbye to Jenny and Sari. 

* * *

  
A few moments later, Dean was walking down the walkway from the house. "Holy  _crap_  that was close," he muttered to himself. Or, that's what it looked like to anyone watching him.  
  
Sam poked his head up from the pocket so he could talk to Dean. Spotting fingers coming right for him, he tried to duck back down again. Sam was easily scooped up by Dean before he got far. Dean just had a sudden need to make sure his brother was alright after being spotted by the little girl. He could feel Sam shaking in fear even now, cupped safely in the palm of Dean's hand. His heart sank. Sam was closer to a scared, small animal like this. Guilt bubbled up in Dean that even children could be such a danger to his tiny brother. Until Sam's panicked reaction today, he'd never even considered it.  
  
"What's the big idea?" Sam grumbled up at him, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He shifted on Dean's hand, standing up. He'd once told Dean he hated being talked down to, and standing on the hand holding him helped to keep that feeling away. Dean slowed down his walk, afraid he'd toss his little brother off by accident. And the ticklish feeling from tiny boots moving on his palm didn't help.  
  
"Sorry, couldn't help myself. Needed to make sure you were alright. I worry about you, man." Dean held his hand up next to his shoulder, letting Sam sit in his favorite spot. He didn't flinch at all as the teeny hunter got settled, even when he felt small hands brush against his neck for stability. "But it was too close today."  
  
Once settled on the shoulder, Sam was able to bring himself to respond to Dean. "Yeah, no kidding." He paused for a few seconds. "Dean, why did you introduce me? I thought you wanted me to stay out of sight."  
  
"Well, yeah. I  _do_  want you to stay out of sight. But she already saw you, and rather than her bringing it up in front of her mom, I figured it would be easier if we just got it out of the way. Not all kids are dangerous for you, Sam. And if any kids ever try to grab you, I'd keep you safe." Dean tried to turn his head as far as he could to see Sam for a brief second, but his brother was sitting too close to his neck. "Sam, I'd never do anything that would put you in danger. You know that, right?"  
  
"Yeah..." Sam thought about that for the last few steps to the car. "I know. It's just... sometimes what's dangerous to me, you don't seem to think about the same way."   
  
The guilt reappeared. Dean knew how true that was. He pushed down those feelings. It was hard, keeping Sam safe at the same time as continuing his work a hunter. Dean opened the door, sitting down.   
  
It took Sam a few seconds to recover from the sudden movement around him, but when he did he focused right on the case, getting away from the topic of vulnerability as fast as possible. "Did you hear what Sari said? A figure on  _fire."_  
  
Dean met Sam's tiny hazels in the rearview mirror. "And that woman - Jenny - did you get a good look at her? Was she the woman in your dreams?" At least Jenny hadn't caught a glimpse of Sam. A small silver lining, considering how the day was going so far.  
  
"Yeah, she was." Sam crossed his arms, staring down at the shirt he was sitting on for a moment. He chewed his lip in thought. "You hear everything she mentioned? Scratching, flickering lights, major signs of a malevolent spirit."  
  
Dean sighed, hating what he was about to say. "Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true." The last thing he wanted was for Sam to know how scared the visions made him feel... He had no control over them, no way to help Sam shoulder the burden. And if they were truly premonitions...  
  
All Dean could feel was the desire to protect Sam.  
  
But how could you protect someone from himself?  
  
Still watching Sam in the rearview mirror, Dean saw him cringe from the tone he had taken. Great. Something else to feel bad about.  _Awesome,_  he thought sarcastically.  
  
Dean started up the car, pulling his attention away from his shoulder. Noticing the fuel gauge was low, he turned the Impala in the direction of a gas station he remembered from his childhood.  
  
He was driving along for a few moments before Sam could bring himself to talk to him again, voice still tremulous. "Dean... the thing in the house.... Do you think it's the same thing that killed mom and my adopted family? The demon?"  
  
"I don't know," Dean said. He kept his attention on the road, hoping his memories were right about where the gas station was.  
  
"Well, did it come back here or has it been here the whole time? Sending us on some wild goose chase while it hides in our house!" Sam's tiny voice rose until he was almost shouting. Dean almost had to grab his ear with his hand, only stopping when he remembered how easy it would be to misjudge and send the smaller Winchester flying.  
  
"For all we know it’s something else entirely!" Dean regretted those words the second they were out, realizing his voice had risen as he talked.  
  
Sam cringed at the volume of Dean's voice. He covered up his ears and flinched as far from his brother as he could without tumbling off the shoulder.  
  
Dean noticed, guilt passing over his face when he took in the brief fear on Sam's face. "Shit, Sam. I'm sorry."  
  
"N-no, it's not your fault, Dean." Sam's shoulders slumped, matching Dean's emotions. It was depressing how easily Sam could be hurt just by a raised voice. "Dean... it’s just... those people are in danger. We have to get them out of the house. I mean, it's already come for Sari, what happens if little Richie is next?"  
  
A slight smile tweaked Dean's lips. Even though Sam was afraid of the kids he was still worried for their safety. The little guy had a heart of gold. "Don't worry, we will."  
  
"No, I mean we have to get them out  _now."_  
  
"You got a brilliant plan for getting them out? Some story she'll believe? Sam, I know how you feel, believe me, I do. But we have to pull back, figure this out." He twisted the wheel, pulling the Impala into a gas station. "We're getting too close to this. We gotta treat it like any other job."  
  
Sam sighed. "Yeah? So what's our next big step?"  
  
Dean glanced at Sam, able to see him now that he was sitting on the edge of the shoulder. "We would normally research the history of the house, the families that lived there, see what happened in the past. But we already  _know_  what happened here." Dean's eyes flicked suspiciously around the gas station, making sure no one was close enough to see Sam.  
  
Sam saw the chinks opening up in Dean's armor and took his chance. "But how much do we really know? What do you actually remember from that night?" He started to climb down Dean's arm while he talked, falling into their standard routine.  
  
Dean kept as still as possible as Sam climbed down, still watching the other people outside the car. So far no one had taken note of the '67 Impala parked there. But having Sam seen once that day was already more than enough. He needed to be more vigilant. "Not much. I remember the fire… the heat." He felt Sam drop from his arm, landing down on the seat. For a second Dean wondered what it must be like, having everything tower over you everywhere. To be too small to open a car door without help. He couldn't even  _imagine_  living in Sam's world. "And then I carried you out the front door."  
  
Sam blinked in surprise up at his brother as he stepped away from Dean on the seat. "You did?"  
  
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?"  
  
Sam shook his head, "No."   
  
"Hmm." For some reason, Dean had thought they'd told Sam that much at least. That moment in the house...  being given his baby brother and told to get him out as fast as possible... those words had ingrained themselves into his mind, helping to form Dean into who he was today. And losing Sam all those years ago, despite everything he'd tried to do to save him... Dean felt even more desperate to keep Sam safe now. It would be all too easy to lose his brother while he was this small.  
  
He pushed those thoughts away, stubbornly sticking to the case. "And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was… was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."  
  
"Did... Did he ever have a theory about what did it?"  
  
"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times. He never even  _mentioned_  demons to me... And if your adopted family died at the hands of whatever killed mom, it's a demon. We might even know more than him now."  
  
Sam took a deep breath. "Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s going on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing."  
  
"Yeah. We’ll talk to Dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time..." He slowly trailed off.  
  
Sam blinked up at Dean. "Does this feel like just another job to you?"  
  
Dean was silent, unable to sort through the turmoil in his mind for a long moment. In the end, he just got up, leaving Sam in the car while he filled up the Impala. "Hide if anyone but me comes near the car, alright?" He said softly to Sam through the open window once he was done. "I gotta go to the bathroom."  
  
Dean walked around the back of the building, to where the bathrooms were kept. The whole time he surreptitiously scanned for followers. He wasn't even sure why he bothered - it wasn't like his brother could follow him, or even see out the window of the Impala. And none of the other gas station patrons had taken any note of Dean aside from approving nods when they saw the classic '67 Impala sitting by the pump.  
  
He slipped his cell out of his pocket, dialing the number he knew by heart.  
  
The familiar message played.  _"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235."_  
  
"Hey Dad. It's Dean. I know I've left you messages before. Hell, I don't even know if you got any of them. But I'm with Sam." He let that sentence stand on its own. He still found it hard to believe that John had never called them back even with the revelation of Sam's surprising survival and rediscovery. "We're back in Lawrence, and there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed mom yet..." his voice faded while he talked. Damn, he could use Sam's support right now. Not even able to leave a message for their dad without falling apart... pathetic. He should never have left Sam in the car.  
  
But he couldn't free himself of all the memories... losing their mom. Losing Sam. Finding Sam again after all that time, hale and hearty but completely friggin' vulnerable... And a father that didn't seem to care about any of it. Tears pricked at his eyes.   
  
"…I don’t know what to do." He closed his eyes, trying to brush off the tears. "So, whatever you’re doing, if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sammy's got a fear of children... understandable considering his size. I wonder if his fear will be vindicated or he'll get over it ;) Sari's adorable, isn't she?
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!
> 
> Got help editing from Sophie's Lamp over on fanfiction.net
> 
> Next part coming February 27th


	3. Psychics

Sam stalked across the open phone book, searching for entries on psychics and palm readers. So far, the few he'd been able to find sounded like they belonged in the looney bin instead of the hunting world.  
  
They'd gone around the town, interviewing their father's old buddies. Well, Dean had been at least. Sam had spent most of the time in his brother's pocket, listening to the words that passed over his head the entire time. It was frustrating that he couldn't even tell Dean any questions that he came up with while listening. There  _had_  to be a way he could talk to Dean like that. Somehow.  
  
But with or without Sam's help, Dean had been able to garner a few new tidbits they'd never heard before. Like the fact that their dad had gone to see a psychic. Something their old man had never seen fit to tell either of his sons. Sam would have figured John would have opened up more to Dean when he got old enough to help with hunting on a regular basis, but instead their dad had kept his secrets.  
  
Still, after being cooped up in the dark for so many hours, Sam was happy to have some space from his brother. They'd checked into a small motel near their old house to go over what they could, dig up information on psychics in the area. Dean was pacing back and forth in the room, scanning through their dad's journal searching for clues they'd missed while Sam kept flipping through the enormous phone book. He couldn't help jerking in Dean's direction every time Dean reached the end of the room and changed direction.  
  
He was doing much better around Dean's size, but it still made him nervous on occasion. Dean hadn't grabbed him against his will since that one time in the forest, so Sam could feel trust building between them again. Still, the sound of those humongous boots hitting the ground each step and shaking the table Sam sat on made him jump. He figured that would never go away. Dean was one thing, but if it was any other person Sam would be running for cover, regardless.  
  
Then there was how fast Dean covered the distance in the room. It would take Sam several minutes walking to cross what was, for Dean, a few steps. At Sam's fastest it would take him a minute. Dean could leap from one end of the room to the other in seconds.  
  
"How's El Divino sound?" Sam said, breaking the silence in the room to cover up his jumpiness. Some of the names that people came up with cracked him up. He took a few steps over the entry to the next one down on the page. "Or how about the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky?" He laughed.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes as he paused by the table. "Do people expect to be taken seriously with names like that?"  
  
"Yeah, no kidding." Sam snickered. A few more steps down over the oversized letters. "We got Missouri Moseley..."  
  
Dean cut him off, sharp eyes catching Sam in their gaze. "Hold on a sec. Missouri Moseley? That's a psychic?"  
  
Sam stared down at the writing he was standing on. "Yeah, guess so."  
  
He took a few steps back when Dean came over to the table, leaning over the phone book and Sam. He squinted down at the page for a moment, brushing a hand over the entry as he read it. "Sam... you gotta take a look at this." He reached into his jacket and pulled out their dad's journal. "Here..." he opened to the first page and gestured at the first sentence.   
  
Sam came over, reading the words his brother indicated.  _"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth..."_  he mused out loud.  
  
Dean's green eyes met his smaller hazels. "I always thought he meant the state." He tapped a finger over the entry in the phone book. "She's got a local address." Sam stepped back as Dean scooped the journal back up, tucking it safely in his jacket. He put his hand down near Sam, letting his little brother climb up his arm to the shoulder. "Think it's time to visit us a psychic."  
  
Sam slid behind the collar of the jacket, ducking down as Dean stepped out the door, locking the room behind them. He stayed there the entire trip, putting off going into the pocket as long as he could. He might not mind sitting in there as much as he'd thought he would, but it still wasn't fun to spend the entire day tucked out of sight. For a few moments, he found himself wishing that they could find a case where they'd have to talk to people Sam's height... see how Dean felt having to hide or talk to people so different.  
  
But that wasn't really fair, since it wasn't Dean's fault that things were the way they were. He was the one good thing going for Sam. Without his brother, he'd be back living in that motel, only all alone and without his family to help him. After all, they'd been killed because of him, not Dean. Dean had done everything he could to stop the witch. How was anyone supposed to know she'd have demonic backup going after Sam's tiny family at the same time as she'd confronted the brothers?  
  
Less than ten minutes later, the car rolled up in front of a small house. Sam was tucked out of sight yet again by his brother, squirming for a few seconds to find a comfortable position inside the cloth walls.  
  
"You alright in there, Tom Thumb?" Dean's voice came from outside. He was still sitting in the car.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... been in here way too much today, I guess." Sam said grumpily.   
  
A weight pressed against the outside of the pocket supportively. "Sorry, kid. I know this whole situation sucks."  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, knowing Dean couldn't see him and punched the wall. "Don't worry about it, it's not like it's anyone’s fault. Just something I gotta deal with now."  
  
The hand pressed against him fell away and Sam felt Dean stand up, slamming the car door closed. He shifted one more time in the pocket, adjusting himself so he was leaning against his satchel for some support. Dean's swaying gait rocked the pocket from side to side. A few moments into walking, Dean was knocking against a door.   
  
"Come in, come in! Make yourself right at home, I'll be right with you!" Came a nice voice from further in the house.  
  
Once Sam was certain Dean was alone in the room, he poked his head out of the pocket, taking a peek at the room. It was nice, white walls, pictures hanging around the room. Dean sat down on the couch nearby, flipping through a few magazines sitting on the coffee table in front of him while he waited. He didn't pay any mind to the curious, tiny hunter in his pocket.  
  
They stayed there for around ten minutes, waiting almost patiently in the room. Soft voices could be heard from the other room, the psychic apparently doing a reading for another person. Running a business like this out of her house must keep her busy a lot. Once the cadence of the voices changed, Sam dropped back down out of sight, listening through the fabric while he heard a door open to the room.   
  
Missouri's voice was talking to another man while she walked him out of her house. "All right there, don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." She let him out the door, saying goodbye as he walked away. Her voice changed slightly as she addressed Dean. "Poor bastard. His wife is cold-banging the gardener."  
  
There was surprise in Dean's tone when he spoke up. "Why didn't you tell him?"  
  
She scoffed. "People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news."  
  
There was a few moments of awkward silence between the two humans during which Sam couldn't help squirming a bit. He hoped Dean would get his act together and get the show rolling so he didn't have to spend the _rest_  of the day smooshed in there.   
  
Missouri was the first between them to break the silence. "Well?" She said, clapping her hands. "Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day."  
  
Sam practically fell to the bottom of the pocket in shock. Twice in one day, there was a human that wasn't his brother who knew about him. He pushed open the pocket barely in time to see the woman leaving through the open door she and her previous client had entered through.   
  
Dean was just as flabbergasted. "Wha.... what?" He sputtered as she left him there. He stood up fast, knocking Sam down without noticing. With rapid footsteps, Dean stalked after the psychic. "How do you know about him?" Dean demanded.  
  
 _Smooth, Dean._  
  
She turned around just as Sam pulled himself up again. "You think I'd be a psychic for so many years without some small ability to read minds? The moment you came into the house, I could feel you both. Even though his mind is much quieter than yours, Dean, I knew he was here." She smiled down at Sam. "At least one of you knows how to think quietly. There's nothing for you to fear here, dear. If you want, you can come out of hiding while you're visiting."  
  
A look passed between the brothers before Dean sighed, gently reaching up to scoop Sam out of the pocket. He was placed on Dean's shoulder, secretly glad to be free of the stifling confines of the pocket.  
  
Once Sam was settled out in the open, Missouri smiled at them both. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." Sam blushed at the scrutiny, not used to being seen by anyone. She pointed a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-looking kid, too."  
  
Sam couldn't help snickering while Dean shifted uncomfortably. Dean was always so proud of his good looks too. He peeked up at his brother, unable to see the expression on Dean's face from where he was sitting, but he could sure see his brother's ear turning red in embarrassment.  
  
They were both caught off guard when Missouri leaned in closer, taking Sam's tiny hand delicately between two fingers before either of them could react. Her grip was light and gentle, but Sam froze in fear. "Sam," she said softly. "Oh, you poor dear. I'm so sorry about your family... to have to go through that twice in your life..." Her finger rubbed supportively against his hand before letting him go. "And your father... he's missing?"  
  
Recovering swiftly, Sam leaned closer to Dean for comfort. He couldn't stop himself. "How did you know all that?" He asked.  
  
"Well... you were just thinking it."  
  
Despite the fact she'd already told them that she could read minds, Sam couldn't stop the surprise on his face at her confirmation. Dean leaned forward, almost knocking Sam off from the unexpected movement. "Well, where is he, is he okay?" He practically demanded. Sam could hear the desperation in his brother's voice.  
  
Missouri was unintimidated by Dean's sudden intensity. "I don't know."  
  
"Don't know? You're supposed to be some kind of psychic, right?"  
  
Sam tried to intercede. "Dean..." but ended up cut off by Missouri.  
  
"Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." Putting action to words, Missouri turned from them, seating herself in a soft armchair.   
  
Sam smirked at the scolding Dean had received even as he clutched the collar to keep his balance as Dean moved. Dean sat himself down, shifting to get comfortable on the sofa right when Missouri reprimanded him again. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m gonna whack you with a spoon!"  
  
This time Sam couldn't hold in the snickers at Dean's offended expression. He slumped against the neck, laughing at the surprise in Dean's tone. "I didn’t do anything!"  
  
"But you were  _thinking_  about it."   
  
There didn't seem to be much you could say to that one. Sam grinned at how easily she'd shut his brother up. Too bad Sam didn't have the same ability. He could imagine how much more peaceful driving would be if he could argue with Dean like that.  
  
Since Dean didn't seem inclined to say anything more after his scolding, Sam bravely took the initiative. "Okay, so our dad - when did you first meet him?" He couldn't help leaning slightly forward, curiosity consuming him. In so many ways, his dad's past and present were shrouded in mystery, and the chance to find out some of what had been hidden from them was something neither brother could pass up.  
  
She nodded in memory. "He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. He was one of the few people I see that wanted to know the truth and not just some lie to help them get by in life. All I did was let him know what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him."  
  
Dean finally spoke up again, sitting forward. His eyes were intently focused on her now, all discomfort forgotten now that they'd gotten down to business. "What about the fire... do you know about what killed our mom?"  
  
"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."  
  
"And... could you?" Sam asked, unable to hide the trepidation.  
  
"I..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
"What was it?"  
  
This time her voice came softly. "I don't know. Oh, but it was  _evil."_  
  
Sam sat back, crossing his arms worriedly. So, no new information on what the thing was. In fact, it was starting to seem like he and Dean had more information than their dad had had. After all, because of what Dean had been able to find after Sam's family had been murdered, they knew it was a demon. That had never been mentioned once in the journal or by Missouri.  
  
Sam was starting to wonder if John Winchester had known that Dean would end up with his journal. The book had a  _ton_  of information about the supernatural, but it was incomplete. Like there were things that had been purposely left out. Just pieces of an ever-growing puzzle. Why wouldn't he tell his son things that would help keep him alive during hunts? Especially since Dean was his only remaining family.  
  
It just didn't make sense.   
  
Missouri's voice cut through his thoughts. "I know you didn't come all this way just to ask me these questions about your daddy. So what brought you boys here?"  
  
Since it was his visions that had lead them to this case, Sam took the initiative. He filled Missouri in on everything that had happened to bring them to her. Knowing it would be useless to leave out details with a psychic, he was more open than he'd ever been with anyone but Dean. Both the humans stayed quiet the entire time, listening to his soft, almost hard-to-hear voice fill the room. It was odd to be the center of attention for two giants like that, yet not be in any danger whatsoever.  
  
He wished life could be like this more often.   
  
After his account was finished, Missouri spoke up. "So... you think something is back in that house?"  
  
Sam kept his eyes locked on hers. "Definitely."  
  
A small bit of confusion passed over her face. "I don't understand."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I haven’t been back inside, but I’ve been keepin’ an eye on the place, and it’s been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why would it act up now, after all these years?"  
  
It was another part that was bothering Sam too. "I don't know." He glanced up at his brother's profile. Dean hadn't said a word since Sam had told his story. "But with my family dying, and our dad going missing, and now this happening, it just feels like... something's starting." He met her eyes with his expressive ones, unable to keep the fear from them.  
  
Dean finally spoke up. "That's a comforting thought," he said dryly. Sam could feel him swallow nervously from where he was leaning against his brother's neck.  
  
Sam spoke up again. "Missouri... is there any way you could come to the house with us? See if you can find out if what's there is the same thing that killed our mom?"  
  
She smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course I can. Anything to help that poor family."

* * *

  
A little over a half an hour later found Dean standing outside the former Winchester house, Missouri by his side and Sam tucked back in his pocket. The sheer amount of times Sam had been seen that day had Dean's instincts on edge, determined to keep anything else from happening to his tiny brother. He couldn't take it if something were to happen to Sam.  
  
Dean knocked on the door and waited patiently. Jenny opened it, holding Ritchie close in her arms. Dean could feel Sam start trembling nervously when he spotted the child, ducking down further into the pocket for safety. Dean frowned briefly, wondering what had happened to make Sam so deathly afraid of children. He'd been fine around Sari once she'd started talking to them. He couldn't help feeling guilty at the amount of discomfort Sam had been subjected to so far that day. If only Sam understood Dean would never let anything happen to him like this.  
  
"Dean," Jenny said, sounding harried. Her eyes passed curiously over Missouri. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Hey Jenny," Dean said, smiling to break the sudden tension in the air. "This is my friend Missouri. If it's not too much trouble, I was hoping I could show her the old place... for old times’ sake."  
  
She shook her head slightly. "You know, this isn't a good time... I'm kinda busy." She went to turn from them. "Maybe another day."  
  
Dean took a step forward, worried they'd lose their only chance to help the family. "Listen, Jenny, this is..." something hit the back of his head, cutting him off. He was slightly thrown forward by the force, and he felt Sam twitch in surprise at the movement. "OW!" He glared at Missouri.  
  
She glared right back. "Give the poor girl a break, Dean! Can't you see she's upset?" She turned her kind gaze to Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well. He's just not the sharpest tool in the shed. But hear me out..."  
  
Dean could feel himself staring daggers into the back of her head as she stepped in front of him, taking charge. The shivering had stopped in his pocket, replaced by what Dean recognized as uncontrollable laughter. Although it was good to see Sam recovering from his fear, knowing Sam was laughing at him slightly pissed Dean off. Sending a glare down at his brother's position, he patted his hand against the pocket, knowing how much Sam hated being taken by surprise. And sure enough, the laughter stopped, replaced by a sharp jab that was Sam's punch after he gave up struggling against the massive hand.  
  
Dean grinned evilly as he turned his attention back to Missouri and Jenny, neither of which had noticed his strange behavior, thankfully. Adding Jenny to the list of 'people who'd spotted Sam' was the last thing either of them needed or wanted to have happen that day. And Missouri would probably just point out that he was taking advantage of Sam's tiny size, or something like that. Ruining the fun.  _Besides,_  Dean thought to himself.  _It's not like I'd ever do anything to ACTUALLY hurt him. Just annoy the hell out of him._  
  
Pushing down the sudden memory of his fist clenched around Sam's fragile body weeks ago, he caught up to the conversation that was happening without him right as Missouri said, "...but you're gonna have to trust us just a little."  
  
Needless to say, Dean hadn't expected Jenny to let them into the house. But for some reason Missouri's motherly demeanor got her to let them in and let Missouri walk around the house, sensing the psychic flows in each of the rooms in an attempt to find where the darkness was hiding. This led them to Sari's room, soft blue walls giving off a sense of comfort and calm that wasn't reflected by the trio.  
  
Sam pulled himself up once he was out of sight of Jenny, watching with wide eyes as they walked through his childhood house. Dean couldn't help glancing down on occasion, still finding himself surprised to see his brother there even after the last month traveling with him.  
  
Missouri walked into the room. "This room is where it's coming from," she said as she walked in a slow circle.  
  
"Why?" Sam broke in, sounding surprised.   
  
"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened."  
  
That shut up both Winchesters for a few more moments. Thinking about everything that had happened, Dean dug into his jacket, careful to not jostle the pocket Sam was in too much, since what he was searching for was in one of the inner hidden pockets below his brother. He pulled out his EMF meter, powering it up and extending the antennae. He started to scan for the frequency spirits put off when they were active, or the residue left behind by the more powerful spirits. Sam pulled himself up enough so he could see what Dean was doing, standing almost on his tip toes to see over the edge of the pocket.  
  
"That an EMF?" Missouri asked as she continued around the room.  
  
Dean glanced at her as he continued to scan. "Yeah."  
  
"Amateur."  
  
Unable to prevent himself, Dean sent yet another death glare in her direction. She'd managed to hit every nerve he had so far today. Besides, she had an unfair advantage over the brothers, with her psychic ability.  _Although,_  he thought to himself,  _there's a good chance Sam's got some psychic abilities, what with these dreams of his._  He pushed away the uncomfortable reminder, not wanting to think about anything beyond his control. He turned back to the meter as it started to buzz at him. He tilted it at Sam so his brother could read it with him.  
  
At the same moment, Missouri spoke. "I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom."  
  
"Are you sure?" Sam called out to her. Ever since they'd left Jenny downstairs, still soothing Ritchie from something that had happened before they'd arrived, he'd been less worried about being seen. The only unaccounted family member left was Sari, who already knew about him.  
  
Missouri nodded at him, solemn.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
Even Missouri seemed perplexed as she answered. "It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s something different."  
  
This time it was Dean's turn to ask a question. "What is it?"  
  
"Not it." Missouri went over to the closet, opening it wide.  _"Them._  There’s more than one spirit in this place."  
  
"What are they doing here? Why now?"  
  
"It's because of what happened all those years ago, to your family. Sam, that night... real evil came to you. The barrier between our world and the supernatural world was weakened by its presence."  
  
Sam responded to her. "What does that mean?"  
  
  
"This place... your home. It's become easy for spirits to manifest here. Far easier than in any normal area. There's a poltergeist in the house, taking advantage. It won't rest until it kills Jenny and her babies."  
  
"But, you said there was more than one spirit here..." Sam's small voice drifted off.  
  
"Yes." Missouri was drawn back to the closet again. "The poltergeist is blocking it from my abilities. I can't quite make it out."  
  
Dean gathered himself. "No one's dying in this house ever again. We're gonna to stop it."

* * *

  
Sam watched as Dean hit the wall with the small axe he had in hand. So far, purifying the house was going surprisingly well.  
  
Missouri's plan was to use hexbags on each floor, on each side of the house. After putting holes in the wall, they just stuck the bags inside, letting the magic contained within purify the house. Jenny had let them in without her home (a surprise) after Missouri convinced her to take her children to the movies. "It'll be safer for you there, dear. Cleansing a home of spirits can get ugly."  
  
And so, armed with the hexbags, Missouri had gone to the basement, leaving the first and second floors to Sam and Dean.   
  
Despite everything else that had happened, Sam couldn’t stop from wondering if anyone else his size was living here… it would be  _terrifying_  to have holes knocked in the walls like that from his point of view. Especially if the holes were anywhere near a pathway setup for travel. It would make them vulnerable to being discovered, maybe even captured. But it was the only way - a poltergeist like this would be dangerous for people of any size. Best to get rid of it, any way they could.  
  
So far, the most excitement they’d had was in the kitchen. The poltergeist had started to throw knives at the brothers. It was only Dean’s quick thinking that had saved them from getting a knife through the ribs. Dropping to the floor, he’d thrown up a table between them and the knives, seconds from getting skewered by five or more knives. Sam had almost been tossed out of the pocket when he’d dropped, hanging on to the pocket flap for dear life. Dean had scooped him back inside quickly, grabbing the hexbag from where it had fallen.  
  
The moment the hexbag was placed in the wall, the manifestation had ceased, leaving the two of them picking themselves off the floor. Sam held on tight as his brother stood, leaving Sam's stomach several stories below. "How you holding up there, Sam?" Dean asked. His hand came up beneath the pocket, holding Sam steady for a moment after all the excitement.  
  
Sam took in a shuddering breath, composing himself. "Great. Let's just get this over with already."  
  
Nodding, Dean made his way to the stairs. The first few hexbags on the second floor went smooth, without any manifestations at all. Distantly, Sam realized he could hear noise coming from down in the basement. Maybe the poltergeist was distracted by Missouri for the moment, giving them a chance to finish this once and for all. Distantly, he hoped she was alright. They didn't need anyone getting killed on this hunt, especially since they'd gotten her mixed up in all this in the first place. Them, and their dad. Like father, like sons.  
  
Holding the final hexbag in his hand, Dean went to Jenny's bedroom. He managed to knock a hole in the wall, down on the floor where it was easily overlooked. Might as well make this as easy on Jenny as possible. She hadn't asked for any of this, after all. Just had bad luck choosing a house.   
  
The moment his hand moved to put the final bag in the house, cleansing it for good, Dean was yanked backwards, tumbling to the ground. Sam gave a cry of fear and alarm, almost falling out when his brother's immense body slammed back against the ground. It was like being in a collapsing building. "Dean?" He yelled as soon as he recovered.  
  
There was no response past an attempted gasp.   
  
Hauling himself out of the pocket, Sam ran up the chest to his brother's face. Dean had one of his hands wrapped around an electrical cord, which was wrapped around his neck, strangling him. His knuckles were turning white from the effort it took just to keep it from killing him. The huge effort Dean was putting into holding the cord off was barely enough to keep him alive. Sam had no doubt that the poltergeist was at work. Dean's other hand was stretching to reach the hexbag he'd dropped when he'd fallen, a few inches away from his outstretched fingertips.   
  
Taking everything in, Sam dashed down Dean's shaking arm. He couldn't help Dean with the cord, he needed to go for the source. Balance wavering, he threw his arms out while he ran down the broad arm. He leaped off using the outstretched fingertips to get as far as he could.  
  
The second his boots left Dean's hand the huge arm slumped down beneath him, as though his brother had used the last of his strength holding steady for Sam. Dean was losing strength every second that cord was wrapped around his throat. Grabbing the bag, Sam discovered it was light enough for him to carry - barely - and ran at the hole Dean had smashed in the wall, dragging it behind him.   
  
By the time he managed to reach the wall, Dean's struggles had started to die down, weakening from the lack of air. The massive boots near Sam stilled as Dean lost the energy to fight. Sam shoved the bag up the wall and into the hole with a burst of adrenaline, determined to save his brother. The moment the bag tipped over the edge and fell in the wall, an explosion of light shot out. A strangled scream that didn’t come from either brother filled the air, dissipating with the light. Sam was knocked down from the force, hitting the floor with a small thump.  
  
Dean sagged down, almost collapsing in on himself. Pulling himself back together, Sam ran past his brother's sprawling form until he reached the hand that had been trying to reach the hexbag. It was limp and unresponsive as he used it to climb up, running along the stilled arm until he reached Dean's face. "Dean?" He yelled.   
  
Dean's lips were slack, no sign of his familiar smirk on them. Desperately kicking at his brother's motionless chin, Sam tried to keep his fear down.   
  
No reaction.  
  
He grabbed the cord that had been wrapped around Dean's neck, loosening it up as much as his size would allow. He wouldn't be able to do CPR at this size, or anything else to help his brother. Frustrated, Sam jumped on Dean's face, climbing up until he was perched on Dean's nose. Desperate for a response, he punched his brother between the eyes with a small fist. "Dammit, Dean. Get up. You can't leave me - not now. Not after all it took to find you again." There wasn't even a twitch at his punch. Sam slumped down, losing hope every second Dean lay motionless.  
  
Without warning a huge cough wracked his brother, gasping in air like it was the first breath he'd ever taken. The huge green eyes cracked open, trying to focus on Sam. "Hey, Sammy," Dean managed to rasp out. Sam's body was shadowed by a hand, plucking him gently off Dean's nose. His arms were pinned to his sides for a few seconds as he rose through the air with Dean. Dean let Sam slump down in his hand once he was done pulling himself up, rubbing his neck and still coughing. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, kid,” he rasped out.  
  
Sam let out a gasping breath, almost a sob as he stared up at his brother, alive and well.  _Thank God,_  Sam thought to himself up, smiling at Dean through hazy eyes. “Never thought I could,” he joked, hiding the fear he’d felt for his brother a few moments ago as best he could.  
  
Missouri found them then. “You boys alright?” She asked, coming into the room. She helped Dean get shakily to his feet.  
  
“Yeah…” Dean got out. “But without Sammy here, I’d be a goner.” He managed to pull away from Missouri, cupping the hand holding Sam against his chest.  
  
Sam couldn’t help but be distracted by how heavy Dean was still breathing. He’d come close to losing his brother there… a few more seconds to get the bag in the wall, and it might just be Sam leaving this house. He could feel panic rise in him at the thought. He  _needed_  Dean - without his brother, Sam would have no choice but to go back to living the way he’d lived before finding Dean again. Staying out of sight of humans, living in the walls and under the floorboards. Never watching another movie with Dean. Never having another drink with his brother. Such silly things that were suddenly vitally important.  
  
He couldn’t imagine a worse fate.  
  
Once they reached the kitchen again, table still uprooted and a mess all over the floor, Sam realized he could hear a door opening to the house. “Dean…” he said, nervous about being out in the open.  
  
Dean didn’t get to say anything back, with Jenny coming towards the kitchen, but Sam was tucked safely out of sight before she saw him. He slouched down to the bottom of the pocket, exhaustion catching up as he listened to Missouri and Dean talking to Jenny. He smiled at the sound of Missouri pushing Dean’s buttons again, glad to be returning to some semblance of normalcy after almost losing the only family he had left that knew about him.   
  
That cared about him.

* * *

Off on the hunt for more clues, and an encounter with the poltergeist!  
  
The storyline and characters contained within the story are NOT mine, this is just for fun and entertainment. Changes have been made to the storyline to fit in the borrower!Sam AU  
  
Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!

Got help editing from [Sophie's Lamp](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4060104/Sophie-s-Lamp) over on fanfiction

Next chapter March 6th


	4. Memories

A short while later, the brothers were sitting in the Impala together, waiting outside their old house.

"So, why are we still here again?" asked Dean, grumpily nursing a coffee he'd picked up from the quickee mart down the street.

"I dunno… I just have a feeling. Like something's going to happen." Sam shifted so he was resting against Dean's neck. "We can't leave without being sure."

"Yeah, I know," Dean sighed. "Just so damn tired," he grumbled under his breath, well aware Sam could hear him fine. He drank down more of his coffee, sliding down slightly in the seat.

Unbothered by his seat shifting around under him, Sam watched the house the entire time. Dean's movements weren't enough to shake him off the shoulder, and somehow it was a comfort to know he was sitting on an immense human. A human it was safe for him be around.

He couldn't shake the odd feeling he had that something still wasn't right. Even after seeing the flash of light and the dying scream of the poltergeist, it was nagging at the back of his head.

Dean closed his eyes, resting his head against the driver's side door while Sam kept watch. For a little while it seemed like Sam had been wrong, and nothing was going to happen. Then, before he could blink, he saw Jenny, standing at her window beating her fists against the glass. Silently screaming for help.

Exactly like in his dream.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, springing to his feet.

He regretted that decision seconds later when Dean jolted up in surprise, not expecting the sudden yell in his ears. Sam toppled off the shoulder, unable to grab the collar in time. Reflexively, Dean shot out a hand, catching him seconds before he hit the seat. Sam's fall was broken with the palm of his hand. Sam stared up at his brother, the shock on his face at how close he'd come to getting hurt mirroring Dean's. A moment's inattention had almost cost Sam a broken arm or leg at the least.

Sam broke the tension by pointing at the house. "Dean, look!"

Dean's eyes followed his motion, widening at the sight of Jenny outlined in the window. The woman gave a soundless shriek as she was pulled into the room by the malevolent force.

Dean was out of the car, Sam carefully cupped in his hands, in seconds. He ran to the house and opened the door with a bang. A scream came from upstairs. Dean took the stairs two at a time, holding the hand Sam was in against his chest so he wouldn't fall. Sam was along for the ride, no idea what was going on past his brother's shadowed shape in the dark. Every footstep shook through Sam's entire body. The rest of the house passed by in a blur as Dean ran.

Once he got to the top, there was a second, fainter scream from the other side of the hallway. "Sari!" Sam said, aghast. "Dean, put me down!" He shoved against the huge fingers holding him in place, unable to budge them an inch.

Dean stared down at him. "What? No way!"

"You don't have time to waste, and you can't get everyone! I'll be fine."

A tortured look came over Dean's face as he lowered his brother to the ground next to his boots. Sam stood on the ground unsteadily, staring up at his looming brother. He'd forgotten what it was like standing down on the ground next to a human.

"Don't get yourself in any trouble," Dean said before straightening. He took off running for the master bedroom, leaving Sam to make his way quickly to his old nursery. Dean's footsteps shook the ground below him. Once Sam reached Sari's room he found the door cracked open just enough to slip through.

Sam ran in, staring up at all the furniture towering over his head. He was reminded forcibly of his insignificance like this... this used to be  _his_  room, after all. He used to fit in here.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind, focusing on why he was there. His eyes flicked from side to side, searching for the little girl. "Sari!" He called out, spotting her cowering on the bed. Tears streaked down her face as she watched a figure on fire come out of her closet.

Her hair whipped around as she looked for the source of the voice. "Sam?" She cried timidly, eyes falling on the tiny Winchester standing on the ground.

"C'mon Sari, we gotta get out of here!"

With his encouragement, the little girl got down from the bed, staring at the burning spirit fearfully the whole time. The second she reached Sam, she scooped him off the ground carefully, small hands gently wrapped around his waist until they got out of her room. She blinked away tears as she stared down at him. "I… I thought you were afraid of me."

"None of that matters until everyone's safe, Sari. I know you won't let me down." Sam patted one of the fingers near him. And he meant every word. As long as the family was safe in the end, it didn't matter what happened to him.

She gave him a small smile at his words, but then flinched when they heard a huge bang. "Quick Sari, we have to get to your little brother!" Sam said, determined.

All he could do was hold on while she ran to the room her brother was in. "Richie!" She cried as she saw him jumping up and down.

"Sari, put me on your shoulder so you can carry him out!" Sam encouraged. He grabbed onto her hair, using it as an anchor. He tried as best he could to not to pull while keeping himself in place as she stood on her tip toes to get her brother out of his crib. Once he was in her arms, she ran for the door, passing the fiery spirit again as it came out of her room.

Seconds after they got out of the room, Dean and Jenny caught up to them, towering over all three. "C'mon guys, time to get outta here," Dean said, taking Richie gently from Sari. He smiled when he caught sight of Sam, safe and sound with Sari.

Jenny just stared at her daughter and the tiny person standing on her shoulder. "Wh… what is going on here?" she asked faintly.

"No time," Dean grunted, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the house.

Sari and Sam ended up bringing up the rear. Dean was hustling Jenny out of the house as best he could, the woman clearly still in shock. Sam couldn't help glancing over his shoulder. For some reason, there was something familiar about the fiery spirit… as though he'd seen it before, somewhere.

Sari seemed to sense his hesitation. "Sam?" she asked, curiously. She tilted her head, staring down at him with her big, innocent eyes.

"Don't worry about it Sari, let's just get out of here." Sam pushed the odd thoughts from his mind. Until Sari was safe, nothing else mattered. He saw Dean and Jenny get out the door with Richie. The second they were outside, Dean handed Richie off to his mother and came back for Sari and Sam. He scooped them both up into his arms, careful to not offset his tiny brother's balance again with his own immense movements.

Sam sighed gratefully, glad to be back near Dean again. Near the one person in the world he knew he was safe with.

The relief didn't last long. Right when he thought they were all home free, right before Dean's last step outside, something slammed into Sam. He flew through the air, carried all the way back to the kitchen. He slammed into the wall, pinned by an unseen force. The fiery spirit came into the kitchen as he cried out in pain.

* * *

"No!" Dean yelled, seeing his brother hit by something invisible. He practically threw himself and Sari through the door, getting her to safety before he turned to run back in for his brother.

The door slammed shut in his face.

_"Sam!"_

Cursing under his breath, he took in the door. It was thick, reinforced oak. No way he'd be able to open it by ramming his shoulder against it or kicking.

Wasting no time, he ran down to the Impala. Sam was helpless in there. There was no time to waste picking the lock. "Where is it, where is it…" he muttered, digging through the trunk.

He ran back to the house, armed with an axe and a salt gun. He ran past Jenny, who was comforting her children with her face buried against Sari and Richie held between them. Dean started to chop into the door with the axe as fast as he could. He needed to get in  _now._  All Sam had on him for defense was a small bag of salt they'd made up for him during his first vengeful spirit hunt not so long ago. And if he was pinned by the spirit, he wouldn't even be able to get to that.

Dean managed to make a hole wide enough to see through. Not pausing in his swings, he could see his tiny brother, pressed up against the wall on the opposite end of the house. Sam was suspended over four feet in the air. Even if he got out of the spirit's hold, he'd plummet to his death. Dean growled, putting even more effort into the next swing. Sammy needed him. Nothing else mattered.

He finally made a hole big enough to pass through. Barely.

Tossing himself through the door, Dean ran to where his brother was, pulling out his sawed off shotgun the second he saw the spirit approaching Sam. Cocking it, he went to shoot, but paused when he heard Sam's small voice break through his concentration. "Wait!" Sam shouted, squirming desperately on the wall.

"What? Why?" Dean demanded, still holding the gun on the fiery ghost.

"Because… I know who it is now. I can see her." Sam's voice shook with emotion.

"Wha…" Dean lowered the gun, squinting at the spirit. And then it came clear to him, too. The fire faded away, leaving behind a blond woman, hair ruffling as the flames dissipated.

And Dean knew who she was.

"Mom…" he said, weakly.

She gave him a smile as she stood there sadly. She looked exactly the same as the night she'd died. Beautiful blond hair, soft sad smile. "Dean." She turned to the younger brother. "Sam." She shook her head briefly as she took in Sam's size, so much smaller than when she'd seen him last as a baby.

"Mom," Sam managed to get out, still pinned by an invisible force against the wall. Despite everything, despite the persistent hugeness of everything around him, for a few momentsit felt like he was normal. Seeing her smiling at him, for the first time his entire life made him smile back, despite it all. Even being pinned to the wall by a poltergeist wasn't enough to get his spirits down.

His mother was here. Nothing else mattered.

Their mom took a few steps forward, holding a hand out to Sam. She lightly brushed over his cheek with a finger without ever touching him. The sadness in her eyes conveyed how much she wished she could hold him one last time. "I'm so sorry for what you've had to go through," she said, almost a whisper. She lowered her hand from him. "I'm sorry you couldn't live a normal life."

"No… mom… you have nothing to be sorry for… please..." Sam practically begged, wanting her to come back. To be able to touch her one last time.

She gave him and Dean one last, long look, as though she she knew she'd never be able to see them again and turned away, staring up at the ceiling. "You get out of my house." Her voice hardened, "and let go of my son."

With that, the fire sprang up around her again. A ball of fire hurtled into the ceiling. The force holding Sam against the wall vanished and he plummeted towards the ground. Dean's huge hand was there in seconds, catching him safely in midair before he fell too far.

Chest heaving from how close that had been, Sam tried to sit up. He found himself falling back down as his brother lifted up the hand, intense eyes checking over Sam's tiny form for any injuries. Sam couldn't help a slight shiver at such close, heavy scrutiny. A careful finger helped him sit up in the palm, supporting his back. Sam slung his arm over it, grateful for the support.

He stared up at Dean, wide-eyed. "It's over now," he gasped out. The pressure at the back of his head was gone.

Like it had never existed.

* * *

Less than a minute later, Dean strode outside with Sam sitting safe on his shoulder.

Where he belonged.

Jenny glanced up at Dean as he came out, tearfully hugging her children. "Is it gone?" She asked.

Dean helped her to her feet, ignoring the surprise on her face when she saw Sam sitting on his shoulder, easily keeping his balance as Dean moved. "I'm gonna call Missouri and have her make sure. But it looks like everything will be back to normal for you," he promised.

She still couldn't tear her gaze away from Sam. "Uh-huh."

"Jenny." The way he said her name made her focus on him, away from Sam. Dean could feel a bit of tension slump out of Sam the moment her eyes were off him. He'd been petrified ever since they left the house, with so many humans around. "This is my little brother, Sam." Dean scooped him into his palm, holding him out in front. "He's the one who saved your children."

Dean's chest twisted as he stared down at his brother, so small in his hand, so vulnerable. But he wouldn't let anything happen to him. Not now, not with him sitting right in Dean's own hand. And Sam deserved the credit. He'd willingly risked himself to save them, without hesitation. Dean could feel the pride in him for what his brother had done, what he'd risked. No one could  _ever_  tell Dean his brother wasn't a hunter after all that.

"Yeah mom!" Sari bounced over to them, grinning up at Sam. "He's the bravest!"

"You don't know the half of it," Sam muttered in a low voice none of the humans towering over him could pick up on. Well, maybe Dean could, being so used to living with Sam and used to how quiet his voice was. But there was no response to his statement. He peered up at Jenny nervously, chewing his bottom lip. The only part that had him not freaking out was he was held in Dean's hand still. The huge fingers were cupped comfortingly around Sam. His brother would never let anything happen to him. He was safe.

Surprise still covered her face. Putting a hand on Sari's back, she smiled gently down at Sam. "Thank you... for saving my family."

Hesitantly, she extended a hand to him. Her eyes flicked up to Dean, making sure it was alright. With the greatest care, she pinched Sam's teeny hand between her fingers. He kept still, amazed at the way she was treating him. Her grip on his hand was light and gentle, even though her fingers covered his hand and part of his arm.  _Maybe not all humans are as dangerous as Walt taught me..._  he thought to himself.

She let go of his hand. Sam took it back, still in shock.

Dean went to grab his phone from a pocket to call Missouri when Sari came up, still shyly staring at the ground. "Sam... can... would you mind if I held you again?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Dean. Dean arched his eyebrows with a familiar expression.  _Your call._

Turning back to her, he smiled. "As long as you're very careful," he said with mock sternness in his voice. After saving her earlier, he was willing to give her his trust. She hadn't let him down when escaping from the house, after all. For a kid, she was alright.

Sari's small, soft hands gathered him up out of Dean's huge, callused one. He was gently carried over to the steps, where she sat down with him on her knee while Dean called up Missouri.

"Are... Are you still scared of me?" she asked tremulously, eyes wide while she watched him.

Sam grinned up at her. "Not anymore," he promised. "I know you won't hurt me... or trap me."

She smiled back at him. Then - "Did anyone ever hurt you like that?"

"Nah, I'm too fast for them to catch!" He pretended to run on her knee, eliciting a giggle from the little girl.

"How fast  _are_  you?" she asked, eyes sparkling. "Could you beat  _me_  in a race?"

"Hmm." Sam pretended to think. "I dunno." He took a quick peek at his surroundings. Jenny was sitting off to the side with her arms around Richie and Dean was standing not far off, watching Sam and Sari out of the corner of his eye while he talked into the phone.

Perfect.

"Race you to my brother!"

Before Sari could react, he jumped off her knee with a laugh, landing agilely on the rough concrete. He darted towards his brother's boots, still idly pacing back and forth while he was on the phone.

Sari giggled behind him. "No fair!" She wasted no time getting up to run.

The surprise that passed over Dean's face when he saw his tiny brother running at him full-tilt with Sari not far behind was classic. "What the...?" He said, losing what Missouri was saying in his ear. He covered up the phone, trying to see if Sam was in trouble. He relaxed a little when he saw the mile-wide grins sitting on both faces.

Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he mumbled a quick "see you soon!" into the phone and dropped it lightly into his pocket. Two big steps cleared the distance between him and Sam, making the younger hunter stumble in surprise. Sam went to run from the massive boot planted in front of him right as Dean leaned over, scooping Sam into a ball in one hand and Sari into his other arm.

Both of them immediately started to complain about him ruining their 'race.' Dean grinned, glad to hear that Sam was starting to get over his fears, even having fun with other humans. Still... He dropped Sam lightly into his pocket, buttoning it up. "This is the fate for little troublemakers!" he proclaimed with mock severity, getting in character. Sam immediately started trying to escape, for all the good it did him. There was no way out for him as long as the pocket was buttoned.

Sari squealed under his arm. "Now, I just need to find a pocket big enough for you..."

"I don't fit into pockets, silly!"

Dean hefted her up onto her shoulder. "No? I guess I'll have to figure out something else, then!" He spun in place, making sure to keep his other hand cupped over the pocket Sam was sitting in so he didn't get tossed about. Once she gave in, he lowered her to the ground, letting her stumble dizzily around.

The little lump under his hand struggled weakly. Dean scooped Sam out, letting him collapse in place on his palm. His small chest was heaving from the exertion and the unexpected ride he'd gone on, but he was unhurt. Dean grinned down at him. "Feeling better, short stuff?"

Sam rolled his eyes, using a finger to pull himself up to a sitting position. "Sure. As good as  _you'd_  feel on a roller coaster. I wasn't really expecting  _that."_

"Hey, that's the best part and you know it." Dean arched his eyebrows at Sam. "Least you didn't have to wait in line for your ride."

Sam huffed in annoyance. "That's not the point, Dean!"

Jenny glanced at everyone in surprise when she saw her daughter stumbling. "Sari! What happened?" she asked, holding Sari's arm so she didn't stumble anymore.

Sari giggled. "That was fun! Let's do it again!"

Dean glanced up from Sam when he heard a car pull up. Missouri stepped out, staring at them with worry on their face. "Everyone alright?"

"We're hanging in here." Dean said, walking over with Sam still cupped loosely in his hand.

They had her walk through the house one last time. Dean followed close behind, keeping a hand on his sawed off under his jacket. She went through slower than before, making sure to do a full sweep before declaring it free of any spirits. Again.

"Even... mom?" Sam asked. It was the first time he'd spoken up since she'd arrived. With so many humans around that knew he was there, his nerves were on edge. He couldn't help twitchily checking his surroundings constantly, even sitting with Dean's fingers curled reassuringly around him.

"She's gone too. She went for the poltergeist to protect you boys and they... cancelled each other out." Missouri stared up at the ceiling above. "Wherever spirits go after being put to rest is where she is now."

They went outside. The sun was peeking up over the edge of the horizon, casting the world in the soft, warm light of dawn. The night of terror was over at long last. Jenny was resting on the steps, Richie asleep in her arms and Sari leaning against her. She caught sight of Missouri and Dean. "What's the verdict?"

"It's safe for you and your children." Missouri took Richie from Jenny, helping her up. Sari rubbed her eyes tiredly and smiled when she caught sight of Sam. "If you ever need any help, you know how to reach me." After a brief embrace, Jenny went back in the house with her son.

Sari took her time, glancing at Sam. Realizing she wanted to say goodbye to Sam, Dean smiled, bending down so Sam was held eye level with the girl. "Bye Sam, bye Dean," she said, still shy.

Sam grinned at her. "Bye Sari," he said. "Thanks."

She blinked in surprise. "Thanks for what?"

"Letting me know not everyone is dangerous." Sam tilted his head at her. "Sari? Do me a favor... if you ever see anyone else my size, make sure no one hurts them... or tries to catch them."

"Of course!" She ran forward, giving Dean a big hug and Sam a tiny kiss on the head, then followed her mother into the house. Both brothers smiled at the girl's innocence, touched.

Dean went to join Missouri the end the driveway. "You'll keep an eye on the house?" he asked with concern. After getting to know Jenny and her children the last thing he wanted was for anything to happen to them.

"Yes, of course. And don't you boys be strangers! I expect a call from time to time!"

With that, the brothers took their leave.

* * *

A few hours later, Dean was idly flipping through channels on the TV with Sam out to see if he could find anyone else his size. He'd found an entrance a little while after they'd come back to rest for the night. Dean hoped he'd been able to find others like him. Especially after everything he'd been through the last few days. Sam deserved it.

Dean took a long pull from his beer, settling in for a quiet night. He was considering heading to a local bar for a drink or two. Maybe even a game of poker or pool. It'd been a long time since he'd hung out, flirted with barflies and played a few games.

A voice near his ear piped up. "You gonna drink all that by yourself?"

Dean couldn't quite hide a grin as he turned his head, catching Sam at the edge of sight. The smaller hunter was sitting on the edge of Dean's pillow, giving off an air of confidence. Dean hadn't even heard him climbing up.

"Wasn't expecting you back so soon, Sammy." Dean said. He pushed himself so he was sitting up on the bed.

"No signs of anyone like me. Just mice and bugs." Sam grimaced at the thought of the bugs he'd run into.

Dean took the initiative and rolled over onto his stomach, off the pillow. With Dean resting his head on his arms, Sam was actually looking down at his brother for the first time. "How do you know?" asked Dean, genuinely curious. "How can you tell if anyone's living here if they're so good at hiding themselves?"

Sam hesitated for a long moment. "If I tell you, you have to promise to never try and catch anyone else like me." He pursed his lips. "It's too easy for you to hurt them, Dean."

Dean was caught off guard. "Sammy... I'd never do anything to hurt them. You have to  _know_  that!"

"It's not like that, Dean. I trust you. You  _know_  I do - with my life. But telling you stuff like that... it goes beyond me. My dad... he'd never have forgiven me if I told you anything like that. I'd be trusting you with  _their_  lives now."

"Sam, I'd  _never_  try to trap anyone like you for no reason. Or hurt them. You have my word. I only kill monsters that need killing. People like you definitely don't apply. I'll give you my promise that as long as they aren't hurting anyone else, I won't go after them. They'll be as safe with me as you are."

Sam gave him a small smile, glad for the reassurance from the massive, dangerous hunter. A man who hunted down the supernatural for a living. "As long as I have your word then..." He leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes in memory. "It's hard to describe. Some of the entrances... you can tell if they're just mouse holes or cracks in the wall. We try to disguise it, but the edges are too straight, too  _neat_  to be caused naturally. Then, when you're in the walls... sometimes there's small signs. Ways to make it easier to climb, like in the motel I lived in. My dad... he anchored a thread at the top of the vents, so it was easy to get into the shafts. After you caught me... I used the ventilation shaft to watch. To see if I could find out if you really were... my brother." His voice wavered.

Dean waited patiently, realizing how hard it was for Sam to open up to him. Dean never encouraged emotional moments, hating the vulnerability that came with them. But with this, it was... different. Sam needed him, and he wanted nothing more than to be there for Sam, after abandoning him for so long on his own.

After a moment, Sam gathered himself enough to continue. Any time he remembered the days before Dean, the days he lives with his adopted parents, Dean could see a look of torment pass over his face. An eternal self-blame for what had happened to them. With clear focus on his small face, Sam used Dean's questions as an anchor to the present. "I try to see if anything seems... out of place. Footsteps in the dust, less bugs than normal... a lot of people that live like that do their best to keep the bugs out of the walls. There was one time a cockroach got into our home... mom was screaming most the night, dad yelling..." Sam smiled at the memory. "We managed to chase it out but I'll never forget how terrifying it was. All I could think of the whole time was how easy I could help my family if I was a human still. But..." he stared down at the pillow. "...they wouldn't have had anything to do with me if I was, would they?"

Dean stayed silent, not knowing what he should say. This was the first time Sam had opened up to him about his life before like this. He didn't want to ruin it or distract Sam from his thoughts.

For the next hour, Sam went on. About his life without Dean. How hard it had been to sneak into the kitchen on the rare occasion. Scaling up the towering counters with his dad, only able to take what would fit in his small satchel. How hard it had been to get to any of the boxed food. One time they'd been lucky… the motel had left the fruit out from the morning continental breakfast. For the next week, his family had been able to eat food that was amazingly fresh, delicious. So much healthier than their normal meals. One of the best weeks they'd had with food the entire time Sam had lived there.

That one time they found abandoned dollhouse furniture - where Sam's bed and his journal had come from originally. How they'd had to carry it all into the little passageway before the maid had come in to clean. Sam had grabbed the journal last, darting out of the room with seconds to spare. Dean smiled at how happy Sam was, talking about the little book he used constantly. From what he'd garnered, Sam used it to write down everything he'd learned living at that size, and now he was writing about what he'd learned hunting. It was one of Sam's most treasured possessions. Dean could remember how mad Sam had been when he'd picked it up, not realizing how important it was.

Dean was treated to stories about Walt teaching Sam how to be unnoticeable, meant for the rare occasion he'd been trapped in a room with humans. That one time with Dean had been the only time he'd made an irreparable mistake - every other time Sam had been able to escape notice. They had to find a small, dark corner of the room. Not moving, barely breathing until either the humans left or fell asleep, or he could slip out of one of the hidden entrances. He even told Dean the mistake he'd made when he'd been caught by his brother… how his arm had been twisted by the alarm clock cord, spraining his wrist and causing him to fall. The noise he'd made falling was what had given him away. Guilt filled Dean at how frightening Sam made it seem when he'd been trapped back there - a huge, dark shadow all he could make out of the human in the room with him. The floor shaking with every movement.  _He_  was the one that had inspired such fear in his little brother.

He could never make up for that.

Near the end he even told Dean why children scared him so much. How they would notice something like Sam faster than adults would. "Their minds are more open. My parents always discouraged going into rooms with kids. The one time I did, I almost got caught." He told Dean about falling in the bag of chips, and how he'd been seconds from being caught. Dean felt himself getting caught up in the moment... the fear, the panic Sam had felt back then came across strong (although he did kinda smirk when he thought of his pint-sized brother stuck in a bag of chips).

The entire time, Dean stayed motionless. He didn't want to pull Sam from his memories. He even tried to avoid breathing deeply. Sam's world was so different - so  _alien_  from his, it was amazing to hear about. If he closed his eyes for a minute, he could almost  _see_  it. He'd never thought Sam would share so much with him - a human, no matter that he was Sam's brother.

Sam pulled himself out of his thoughts, flushing red when he realized how long he'd gone on for. With effort he brought himself back to Dean's original question. "So... yeah. Stuff like that. Little things, mostly."

Dean didn't respond for a long moment. "Sam... thanks," he said, touched. It was more than he'd thought Sam would ever share. It made it a little easier to understand what Sam went through, living this small. Where even your own brother could hurt you by accident.

He sat up slowly, trying to avoid jostling the pillow Sam was on. "Up for a movie?"

Sam gave a small huff of laughter. "Sure."

They spent the rest of the night watching The Two Towers, Sam sitting on Dean's shoulder. They shared a drink and ate a pizza.

Like everything was normal.

* * *

Missouri made it home not long after watching the black Impala drive off, its driver intent on the road ahead. She came into the house and smiled.

She could sense him the moment she came in. His mind was as loud as Dean's, the thoughts filling her house.

Still, she couldn't read him anywhere near as well as the boy. He'd had practice screening his thoughts, making it so only what he wanted to slipped out. He'd had experience in the past with psychics, she knew.

She closed her eyes, speaking to the air. And to him. "That boy... he has such powerful abilities. But why couldn't he sense his own father, I'll never know."

John rested his head on his hands, fingers intertwined. "Mary... she really saved the boys?"

"She did." Missouri met his dark-eyed gaze.

John broke away. "And... Sam. Is he...?"

"He's exactly what you told me." She glared at him, thinking about that poor boy. "John, I could just slap you!" She said angrily. "That boy has been shoved into a world he's not prepared for with only his brother for support! He  _needs_  his father!"

John stared down at the ground. "I... I can't. Not yet. I can't face him... can't face what happened to him because of me. I failed him then. I don't want to fail him again." He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

He wished things could be different.

_**FIN** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of a sweet story for Sam and Dean :) Hope everyone loves Sari as much as I do! And John officially makes his first appearance in the series. Now the only question remains when will Sam finally see his father?
> 
> The storyline and characters contained within the story are NOT mine, this is just for fun and entertainment. Changes have been made to the storyline to fit in the borrower!Sam AU
> 
> Got editing help from shooshpapping on tumblr
> 
> Next: So, starting next week on Friday the thirteenth, not only does my contest end, but a new story begins! This one is a bit longer than Home and an original storyline for my Brothers Apart. Sam and Dean have a lot of excitement heading for them in Shadows and Reflections! So tune in next Friday for the fun to begin! :)
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!


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